Voices
by Tigerlily Brown
Summary: Shortly after her father's death, Scully begins hearing strange voices. As she and Mulder investigate a case, both struggle to cope with her sudden belief - until she cracks the case, along with another long unsolved mystery from the past. After 1x12.
1. Chapter 1

_Begins immediately after Beyond the Sea._

Scully didn't know how long she sat there. She gently removed Mulder's hand from her arm, smiling faintly down on his now sleeping form. "Mulder," she sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

As the red-haired woman walked to the door, the nurse watching through the window balked and backed away quickly. Somehow she felt she had just witnessed something private, as if some kind of understanding had just passed between the two agents though only the woman was lucid. She hadn't had the heart to tell her it was time for her to leave.

But Scully left on her own. Pushing the door open, she nodded in greeting to the nurse, who quickly averted her eyes.

* * *

Scully drove home in a daze. She couldn't help but question whether she should have gone to the execution. She knew she had no real reason, but some sense of obligation now tugged at her. She wondered what Boggs thought when she wasn't there.

She chastised herself for reveling in the past as her shaky hands unlocked her front door. What was done was done.

Snapping the light on, she locked the door behind her and dumped her bag on the couch. Trying not to focus on anything just yet, she took a quick shower with the radio turned all the way up to distract herself. It was only when she was finally in bed that she let herself think.

She stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before rolling over and taking the red wooden picture frame off her bedside table. A bittersweet smile crossed her weary face as her slender fingers traced the frame. The photo had been taken years before, not long after college. Both her parents, looking much younger and more carefree, had an arm around her waist. Dana's head rested against her father's, an arm draped over her mother's shoulders. The resemblance was striking. She hadn't seen both of them so happy in years.

She knew what her father would have said if Boggs had let him. He was never entirely comfortable with her career path in the FBI, but somehow, she knew. He was proud of her anyway.

Setting the picture back down, she drew the covers closer. Another matter perplexed her: Mulder's sudden display of compassion. She never thought him to be an unfeeling person, but he was normally so immersed in his paranormal schemes that she never saw much but his unorthodox beliefs and odd sense of humor. That he showed such concern was unexpected. His sudden touch was startling, uncomfortable for the first few seconds, but not altogether unwelcome. She supposed he could empathize with her situation.

She eyed the digital clock by her side – it was well past midnight. With a last glance at the picture, she exhaled heavily and closed her eyes.

* * *

"It's dark…" a hoarse voice whispered. "So dark. I can't see." His labored breathing resonated until he screamed. "He's coming!"

The voice changed. It was a woman now, her voice deep and gravelly as if from years of smoking. "You can't stop death, hun. Death stops you."

A little boy screeched, "I don't know! I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! Why are you doing this?"

"You never know," a deep voice resonated, sounding as if it was accompanied by an evil leer. "They might come for you next."

Scully thrashed about, as if trying to shake the voices out of her head.

Suddenly they seemed to multiply, all speaking so quickly at the same time that she could barely tell what they were saying.

"No! I'm not doing this anymore!"

"Death rules over all."

"What's happening to me?"

"He tortures us… pain…"

"I don't even remember what the sun feels like."

"Don't! Please don't!"

A maniacal scream echoed until finally one haunting voice whispered her name. "Scully…"

* * *

She bolted upright, drenched in sweat. A scream died on her lips when she recognized her own bedroom.

* * *

"Mulder?" she called softly, poking her head through the door.

"Hey, Scully. How's the unbeliever?" he grinned. He sat up in bed, shadows under his eyes still prominent but fading. He seemed eager for a visitor.

"You're in a good mood."

He nodded. "Pain medication. Makes me loopy," he gestured vaguely with his hand. "Loopier than usual, I guess you could say." Seeing her lack of reaction, he frowned. "You OK, Scully?"

"Yeah," she said noncommittally, brushing her hair out of her face as she sat down. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?" He scrutinized her drawn expression. "You don't look so good."

Scully sighed, fidgeting with the edge of her coat. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

His tone sobered. He was afraid she might have trouble coping. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Mulder," she smiled tightly and squeezed his shoulder. "Just get better."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

She dreaded going to sleep. Every available resource concerning sudden appearances of such intense nightmares involved multiple occurrences. Even if this fact weren't enough, she had an uncanny feeling that she would be hearing these voices for a long time.

* * *

It was the same every time. "Morning, Mulder," she would mumble, setting her bag on the ground by the door. "New case?" She would listen quietly to his summary, make sparse comments, and ask about his plan of action in a flat, unemotional voice. Where she used to make playful, sarcastic stabs was now tense silence. Mulder knew something was wrong, but he hoped it would blow by on its own. He thought it better go give her space.

He let it go on for just over two weeks before he took a stand.

* * *

"I turned in my report," Scully said, opening the door to his office just enough to stand halfway in. "Need anything else?"

"No," he shook his head, looking up from his stack of papers and removing his glasses. "But I did want to talk to you before you go," he said before she could leave. Eying her wary expression, he added, "If that's OK."

Biting her lip, Scully nodded and came into the room, closing the door behind her. She'd hoped she could avoid this conversation just a bit longer. "Sure."

"Sit down," he gestured to the chair.

She did as she was asked, crossing her arms protectively in front of her chest and avoiding eye contact.

Both were silent at first until Mulder asked, "So, how are you holding up?"

"Fine," came her automatic response, voice clipped as her eyes flicked to his.

"Scully," he abandoned his lighthearted tone and stared her down. "Be honest."

"Fine, Mulder," she repeated, voice gaining an icy edge. "I've just been a little stressed lately, that's all."

He ran a hand over his face, clearly not satisfied. "Look, Dana," he saw her cringe, "I hate to put it this way, but ever since you lost your father, you've been… different." He could see her tense, physically and mentally. "Does this have something to do with him?"

Her eyes softened, then immediately flickered back to the defensive pretense. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She stood up, but Mulder's hand caught her arm just as she reached the door. Flinching at his iron grip, she tried and failed to free herself, snapping, "What do you want from me?"

"I want Scully back!" his voice raised as he pushed her back against the door. "I want the Scully who won't jump at every sudden movement, the Scully who can look me in the eye for more than ten seconds…" His vicious tone melted as he seemed to chuckle to himself. "The Scully who passes judgment 

on my crazy theories without a second thought." He could see her resolve crumbling along with his own. His voice cracked as he continued, "I just want the beautiful, witty, healthy, happy woman I used to work with." His hand loosened on her arm. "Do you know where she is? Because I can't seem to find her."

A rim of unshed tears lined her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off.

"If you think this job is too much for you, don't stay." He stepped away slowly, eyes conflicted. "You have no obligation to me."

"It's not the job, Mulder," she said after a pause. "And it's not you."

"If there's anything I can do…"

She interrupted curtly, "I'll let you know." With a pained glance, she left him there, staring at the door.

* * *

That night Scully looked in the mirror – and actually concentrated on what she saw.

Mulder was right. Her already pale skin was sallow, the purple rings underneath her eyes only accentuated their dull, glazed-over look. Her mouth, once prone to teasing smirks at Mulder, was set in a firm line. She raised slender fingers as if to smooth it out.

Any sane individual would tell her to get help if they knew what she was enduring. She almost laughed at the thought of herself effortlessly shooting down a psychologist's vague, probing questions.

Her face fell. She tried to laugh, but it came out weak and stilted. It could hardly be called a laugh at all. It had been a while since she had laughed.

* * *

"He'll forsake you. They all will."

"Don't you remember what happened to me? It was all for nothing!"

"I… I don't know if I can take this anymore."

"Why are you doing this?"

"No! I don't believe you!"

"You betrayed me."

"I can't… so much pain…"

Clutching her pillow, she let out a shaky breath and whispered, "What is going on?"

The voices ceased immediately. "Agent Scully," a new man chuckled, his voice almost musical. "I thought you'd never ask."


	3. Chapter 3

"So, Agent Scully. How have you been?"

She froze. She recognized that eerie, lilting voice. "Boggs?"

"Honestly, Scully, I'm surprised it took you this long. I always thought you were an…" he paused to take a breath, "intelligent sort of woman. Though…"

"Though I don't believe," she finished for him, voice trembling.

"Why, Scully? Why don't you… believe?" That's the way Mulder puts it, isn't it? Why don't you believe?"

She snapped, "You know perfectly well why I don't believe! You –"

"Ah, ah, ah," Boggs responded as if he had held up a finger in reproach. "And how do I know that?"

She couldn't answer. He had backed her into a corner.

"You see?" He chuckled, a deep rumble in her ears. "Sleep tight, Scully."

That night the voices were quiet.

* * *

Feeling rested for the first time in weeks, Scully opened the door to Mulder's office. She walked over to Mulder, who hadn't turned around at the sound of her arrival. "What's that?" she asked, peering over his arm at the folder he was reading.

"This," he said, snapping it closed and going over to his desk, "is an X-file showing multiple occurrences of alien life forms being seen in public, in broad daylight since 1963…" He paused to rifle though a stack of papers. "In areas where no legitimate UFO sightings have been reported within at least six years."

"Legitimate?"

He suddenly looked up at her for the first time since she entered, hands unmoving. She looked much the same as she had the day before, but her mouth held a gentle smile.

Her eyebrows raised as he stopped suddenly. "And?"

Shaking his head slightly, Mulder looked back to his stack and pulled out a folded newspaper. "A woman named Suzanna Hale in Wilkes-Barre says in this article that a few nights ago she saw an alien outside her bedroom window." He grinned, holding up the paper. "This hasn't happened there in fifteen years."

"Well," Scully said, taking the paper to skim the article, "looks like we're going to Pennsylvania."

* * *

"The flight should only last about an hour," Mulder said as he handed the tickets to the gate attendant. "I don't know about you, but I didn't feel like driving for four."

As they took their seats, Scully asked, "So, how much to we know about this woman? Has anything like this happened to her before?"

Mulder shook his head, glancing down the rows of passengers. "I don't know." He stopped to look at her. "But I'd like to find out."

* * *

As she drifted to sleep, the voices were mere whispers.

"Death… only death can free you. Only death can trap you."

"I don't know where to turn."

"We've got to get back to where we were… it can't be that far."

Scully groaned and whispered, "Boggs?"

"Yes, ma'am?" he drawled after a moment's hesitation.

She sighed in relief. "They go away… when I talk to you, they go away."

"They?" he asked skeptically. "I and the voices are one and the same. It just depends on which side of me I let you into."

"I know I toss and turn less."

"Where are you?" Without waiting for an answer, she felt a probing finger digging through her mind. "Bright lights," he said, voice a near faultless imitation of her own. "Porthole… no, just a window… sky… clouds… Mulder… funny-looking plastic tray… airplane!" His voice changed back to his own, tone contemplative. "Mulder… I see."

"I don't want him to know… that I'm still having nightmares," she mumbled, somehow ashamed.

"Nightmares? Is that what you think these are?" His all-knowing chuckle faded from her consciousness.

* * *

"Scully," another voice replaced his. "Hey, Scully!"

She awoke to Mulder shaking her gently.

"We're about to land," he said as she opened her eyes. "You OK?"

She turned to face him, frowning as she felt her pulse quicken. "Yeah, why?"

His eyes regarded her with a concern that unnerved her. "You were whispering in your sleep."

Scully trained her eyes on the swiftly moving clouds instead. "What was I saying?"

"I couldn't tell."

Scully sighed, feigning ignorance as the city broke through the clouds below. "I must have been dreaming."

* * *

Mulder looked skeptically at his partner when no one came to the door. Frowning, he leaned over to peer through the window. The blinds were closed. "Maybe she's not home." He rang the doorbell again.

Finally they heard a muffled voice. "Hang on! I'm coming!" Footsteps sounded, followed by the click of the lock. The door swung open to reveal a middle-aged brunette woman. She raked a flustered hand through her hair before apologizing, "Sorry. I was changing diapers."

Mulder smiled and shook his head. "No problem." Flashing his badge, he introduced himself. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder, this is Dana Scully. We're from the FBI."

"I spoke to you on the phone," she nodded to Scully, extending a friendly hand for both to shake. "Suzanna Hale. Please, come in."

As they hung up their coats, Mulder caught a glimpse through the doorway of a piece of paper on the refrigerator. Its apparently finger-painted drawing bore a striking resemblance to a flying saucer. Discreetly leaning towards Scully, he whispered, "I think we've come to the right place."


	4. Chapter 4

"Here," Suzanna Hale said as she set down a tray of coffee mugs and took her own. "I figure we've got a lot of talking to do.

Glancing at Scully, Mulder took a mug and leaned back in the green upholstered couch. "Why don't you walk us through what happened. What did you see?"

With a sigh, Suzanna put her mug down on the side table next to her chair and said, "It's not what I saw. It was actually my daughter."

"The article said it was you," Scully interjected. "Why did you lie?"

"Do you honestly think anyone would take seriously the musings of a ten-year-old child? They'd say she just had an overactive imagination," she scoffed, regarding Scully with an imposing eye. "But I know she saw it, whatever it was. Alice… well, I think she… she sees things. I know it sounds crazy." She paused to take a sip of coffee. "At first I didn't think anything would happen at all, but I certainly didn't expect the FBI," she laughed. "You know how little people believe."

"I'm afraid we're the exception to the rule," Mulder said, eyes flicking momentarily to Scully, who remained silent. "I'm not exactly indicative of the FBI's general interests."

Suzanna shrugged. "I figured as much."

"What did you say your daughter's name was?"

"Alice."

"How many other kids do you have?" Mulder asked as he noticed a picture frame on the side table.

"Two," Suzanna smiled. "Angela's fifteen; Lucas is nearly eleven months old. Alice is ten."

Scully too saw the picture. Suzanna and her three children stood outside their house. A tall blond man stood in the back, a relaxed smile on his face as he laid a hand on the oldest girl's face. Suzanna held the baby propped up on her hip, and the younger girl clung to the hands of both parents. Angela, their oldest daughter, shared her mother's straight brown hair and dark eyes, while the younger children bore more resemblance to their father, both with curly flaxen hair.

Scully looked down at Suzanna's folded hands. "What about your husband?"

The woman's face hardened and she looked away. "He passed away in a car accident before Lucas was born."

Mulder waited a few seconds to break the tension. "When can we talk to Alice?"

Suzanna snapped back into focus and nodded to the clock at his right. "They'll be home from school in a few minutes. You can see her then."

* * *

"Hey, Mom," called the older of two girls before stopping suddenly when she saw the unfamiliar agents in the living room. "Oh."

"Angela," her mother emerged from the kitchen, "Why don't you go ahead and get started on your homework?"

Eying the strangers warily, she disappeared quietly down the hall.

Suzanna turned to her other daughter, bending down to her eye level. "Honey, these are the nice people from the government I told you about. This is Agent Mulder, and Agent Scully." She pointed to each, who smiled tightly in greeting. "They'd like to talk to you for a little bit, OK, Alice?"

She kept her eyes down as she dropped her backpack on the floor, but nodded enthusiastically.

As Suzanna disappeared into the kitchen again, Scully moved to join Mulder. "Why don't we go sit in the living room, OK?"

As she sat down on the floor across from them, Mulder glanced over at Scully, who nodded reassuringly. "Your mom says you saw something the other day," he said gently. "Do you think you could tell us what it was?"

Alice nodded. "It was one of them," she said nonchalantly, tugging on a curly ponytail.

"Do you see them a lot?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. But I've never seen one this close."

Mulder frowned, confused by her unperturbed attitude. He had never seen someone with that kind of connection who hadn't been labeled "disturbed." He continued, "How exactly did this happen? Where were you?"

"In my room. I was going to sleep, and I heard a noise, so I looked around. And there it was," she smiled. "Right outside my window."

The two agents shared a look. "Weren't you scared?" Scully asked, forehead creased in thought.

"Not really," Alice shrugged again. Though childish and innocent, her eyes reflected a deepness of understanding that surprised them. "I think if he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn't have let me see him."


	5. Chapter 5

That night Scully heard but one voice.

"Mom was driving too fast." It was a teenage boy. "We were late. It was dark. I guess she didn't see him coming."

Scully shuddered. After growing accustomed to the din of so many voices at once, the echoing silence was almost more frightening.

"I told her there was a car coming. She didn't hear me, or she wasn't paying attention. Darkness," he heaved. "Loud noises. Sirens, I think. At least I died quickly. Mom said she suffered… for a long time."

* * *

When she awoke, it was still dark.

She was almost tempted to go back to sleep; to talk to Boggs. She had made the connection between the restfulness of her sleep and her knowledge of Boggs' presence. Perhaps her subconscious had finally resorted to conjuring up one person to connect with the dreams as a sense of stability. But she couldn't determine why it was Boggs who always accompanied the voices – why not Mulder, or even one of her parents?

Before she could come close to an answer, the alarm clock jolted her from her daze.

* * *

"Morning," Scully said offhand as she climbed into the car. "Where are we going today?"

Mulder put the key in the ignition. "Back to the house. I don't see anything we can follow up on anywhere else yet. Unless you have any ideas."

"No," Scully shook her head, eyebrows furrowed into a deep line. It was the first time he had asked for her opinion on a serious course of action in a long time.

They drove in a comfortable silence, though Scully was faintly aware of Mulder's watchful eyes glancing over every now and then.

"Scully?" he asked suddenly. She could see him look up at her in the rearview mirror. "You're doing OK?"

"Well, I'm confused about this case, but otherwise fine, Mulder. Why?" she said truthfully. She seemed to have forgotten why she would have any reason not to be, to Mulder's knowledge or to her own.

Smiling to himself, Mulder shook his head. "Nothing."

* * *

"Hi, Alice, how are you?" Scully asked gently as she kneeled down on the carpet next to the girl.

Mulder followed suit. "Is it OK if we ask you a few more questions?"

They were interrupted by a voice behind them. "Um… sorry to bother you…" Angela stood at the edge of the room by the front door, "but can I talk to one of you for a minute?"

Turning to Scully, Mulder shrugged and motioned for her to stay with Alice as he stood up. "What is it?"

Angela glanced between him and his partner, seemingly intimidated by his size. As Scully and Alice began a hushed conversation, Angela asked, "Are you getting anywhere with her?"

Frowning, Mulder replied, "We don't have much sufficient evidence to go on yet, why?"

Angela sighed heavily and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I don't know how much Mom told you. I don't know how much she even knows about it."

"Why?" his frown deepened. "Is there any reason she would have kept anything from us?"

"No, no," she assured him, "she definitely wants this to go well, but…" she trailed off for a moment, smiling bittersweetly as she watched her sister quietly answering questions. "I used to try and stop her from telling Mom about… about what she saw. She'd point at the sky and I'd tell her it was just a plane, or she'd see something nobody else saw and I'd say it was a shadow or just her imagination. I tried, but… I couldn't keep everything a secret."

"Why didn't you want your mom to know?"

She suddenly raised her voice, "Are you kidding? Agent Mulder, it's just her taking care of us three, and Luke's still in diapers. She has enough to worry about, even without Alice's crazy visions or whatever these are!"

Scully looked up, giving Mulder a subtle look.

"Sorry," Angela whispered. "Look, I know Alice has something… weird… going on here…"

Mulder interrupted, "Do you believe Alice is seeing extraterrestrials?"

She nodded solemnly.

In the silence, both watched the pair on the living room floor. Quietly, Scully asked, "What are these things you see, Alice? Aliens?"

"I guess," the girl said, concentrating fiercely on the doll in her lap. "If that's what you want to call them."

They were silent for a moment longer until Angela said, "I have something to show you."

* * *

"So," Mulder shut the car door. "Did you get anything?"

Flipping through her notebook, Scully sighed. "She says she doesn't remember when she started seeing them, that her sister tried to keep it secret, that her mother encouraged her once she found out to tell her what she saw, that she never told anybody exactly what they look like. Also, I asked her what they looked like, and she said –"

"Like this?" Mulder produced a stack of folded papers from his coat pocket.

Scully smirked, giving them a cursory glance. "Mulder, you're collecting modern art?"

Shooting a glare in her direction, he continued, "Look closer."

Scully's mouth opened a fraction. "Mulder, these match all of Alice's descriptions exactly – where did you get these?"

"Angela gave them to me. Apparently her brother Lucas is quite the artist." He looked her way with a mischievous smile.

"But Mulder, he's just a baby! I mean, these are crude, they barely even qualify as finger-painting, but… how could he possibly have done this?"

"Runs in the family?" he shrugged.

Scully frowned. "But Angela doesn't claim to have any kind of connection?"

"None."

A small laugh escaped as she dropped her hands to her lap. "I know this is hardly a credible source, but Alice said that they don't always look like most people assume they do." She picked up one drawing. "Large eyes, large oval-shaped head, elongated features… but what she said makes perfect sense." Rifling through the other drawings, her forehead creased in thought. "She talked about some of these others." She turned to face him, voice growing in intensity as she neared a solution. "What reason do we have to automatically assign all beings human-like features? It only makes sense that not all of them appear this way… or none of them do."

Mulder smiled, drinking in her proposal. "What, Scully, no logic? No cynicism? No other possibilities?" At her silence, he glanced over triumphantly. "Looks like my work here is done."


	6. Chapter 6

She heard the usual torrent.

Scully was almost beginning to appreciate the voices she heard each night. She knew it was irrational, and unnatural, to simply accept what could be called a psychological breakdown, but as she had no reason to anticipate their disappearance, she thought it best to focus on more relevant matters.

Her confusion regarding the enigmatic case frustrated her more than anything.

Suddenly, it was silent. The only sound was her own erratic breathing.

After a few seconds, a male voice replaced the void. "They sent me on a weird mission. The government." His voice was deep, crisp as if from years of military training, but pleasant. "Not that everything we did wasn't weird. We never got too much information about what we were doing. I guess that's government work for you. But I figure it's better that way. I got in this to help people. We all had to accept that that meant keeping secrets." He paused, as if awaiting some silent prompt to continue, sighing gently. "I still don't know exactly what happened. It was some kind of technology. I knew more at the time… I forgot most of it. There were lights… everywhere. We got what we were looking for, but… none of us were ever the same again. It wasn't anything major. But we all knew we'd stumbled across something bigger than anyone anticipated." A choked sob sounded in Scully's ears. "I never got to see my baby boy."

Once satisfied he would not continue, Scully tentatively spoke up, "Boggs?"

"Yes, ma'am?" came his now familiar drawl.

Though she felt foolish asking such a question, beyond allowing her own imagination of Boggs control, she asked, "Why is there only one?"

"One?" was his only answer, preceded by a slight hesitation.

"Most nights I hear several of them."

This time he answered immediately. "That's just the way it is, Scully. Sometimes there's one, sometimes there's many. Just depends on who's in line. E pluribus unum, I suppose you could say." He laughed weakly.

Scully pondered this – she knew Boggs could call upon particular people's thoughts, but he had shown no sign of being able to control those who naturally came to him. But there was a subtle waver in his voice.

* * *

"Morning," Scully sighed when he opened the door to his room, giving him a taut smile.

Mulder kicked the door shut wordlessly behind him and returned to the mirror, buttoning up his half-open shirt and slinging a light blue tie over his shoulders. "I don't suppose you've had any blinding insights?

"I'm afraid not." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "You?"

He shrugged, looping the tie around his neck. "Fox," he met her eyes in the mirror with a gentle smirk, "chases the rabbit around the tree and down the hole." Deft fingers tightened the knot. His expression hardened, however, as he looked down and leaned his hands on the dresser. "I don't know, Scully." His eyes were tired when his reflection looked back up at her. "What if we've hit a dead end?"

Scully gave him a sad smile, though she couldn't check the mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Spooky Mulder's run out of ideas?"

"We've got a little girl claiming to see aliens like they were monsters under the bed. Scully, I see this kind of thing all the time, but we have nothing to go on here. There's no proof."

"What about the pictures?" she frowned. "Yesterday you sounded like they were the piece that finished the puzzle."

"CS Lewis and his brother created an all-encompassing fantasy world before they were halfway through elementary school," he retorted, though with less enthusiasm than intended.

"Mulder…" she said gently, "maybe this is one of those things that just doesn't have an explanation."

He whipped around, teeth clenched in frustration. "There has to be an explanation."

"Mulder, you're starting to sound like me!" She laughed to herself without realizing just how much she sounded like him as well.

He turned away from her again, staring blankly out the window at the street below. "There's nothing in their medical records? No history of mental problems?"

"None," she shook her head.

"No physical either?"

"You read the file with me, Mulder. They're slate clean."

Rubbing a hand over his stubbled cheek, he let a haggard sigh slip out. "I don't get it, Scully. An ex-military and a stay-at-home mom. Why them?"

"Why does anything happen?" Her quiet voice rose as she blurted out, "Wait… Mulder, what did you say the father did after the military?"

Frowning, he faced her. "Some kind of reconnaissance squad for the government. Why?'

"Oh, God, that was him," she whispered, staring past him.

"What?"

She ignored him and continued. "Do we have a record of all his activities?"

"No, but I can get it. Scully, where are you going with this?" His tone was almost suspicious as he reached for his car keys.

"I'm not sure." Crossing her arms, she paced the room, expression intense. "What if… what if Robert Hale was exposed to something on one of his missions? Something… not human? Whatever it was, he could have passed it on."

Mulder shook his head in disbelief, a half-smile growing. "When are you suggesting this would have happened?"

"Between 1978 and '84."

"Angela and Alice."

Scully smiled, dropping her arms. "Exactly."

"Come on." Racing for the door, Mulder stuffed his cell phone in his pocket. "Let's go."


	7. Chapter 7

_I would highly recommend looking up a picture of benzene's structure on the internet. I tried to explain it as well as possible, but I'm not sure if it's clear._

Scully snatched the manila envelope the moment he held it out. Rifling through the pages with an unforeseen vehemence, her forehead creased as her eyes flew through the material. "Mulder, this impossible…" She gestured for him to come closer, pointing at a line on the page. "They found high concentrations of benzene in both Alice and Lucas' blood. Mulder, these kids should be dying now."

"What do you mean?"

"Contact with benzene, especially inhalation, can result in dizziness, headaches, even mild delusions, which, if you were groping for an explanation, could account for Alice's visions, but… exposure to the bloodstream… Mulder, long-term exposure, especially with such high concentrations, causes various types of blood cancer."

"But they're perfectly healthy."

"Exactly," she closed the folder, letting her hands drop to her sides. "I don't understand."

Mulder sighed heavily, running a hand over the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall. "So your theory about the father…"

"Could still work," she murmured. "My God, Mulder, I think I just got another blinding insight." His eyes snapped up to lock with hers. "This is a far cry, but…"

"Scully, what is it?" he pushed when she trailed off.

"What's one of the basic laws of nature?"

"Wear clean underwear?" he grinned.

"Asymmetry, Mulder. Everything made by nature is, well, natural. Think about it, not even the earth is a perfect sphere. How much do you know about benzene?"

"If I remember from my college chemistry, it's the one with the ring structure." He drew a vague circle in the air with his finger.

"If I remember from my college chemistry, it's the one with the ring structure." He drew a vague circle in the air with his finger.

"Exactly. Here," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and sketched a diagram on the back of the folder. A ring of six Cs alternately connected with one or two lines each had an H attached on the outside. "Kekulé discovered its shape after having a hallucination about a snake eating its own tail. Benzene," she pointed at the drawing, "has alternating double bonds. Its shape… Mulder, this is as close to symmetry as you can get.

Mulder frowned, dark brow furrowed as he examined the compound's unusual structure. Any way it was sliced in half, it produced a mirror reflection. "What are you suggesting?"

Taking a deep breath, Scully forged ahead. "Like I said, this is just a shot in the dark, but… you saw Robert Hale's file. The highly classified nature of most of his missions coincides with other cases involving government acknowledgement of extraterrestrial life."

She could see Mulder mentally balk at the implications. Part of him wanted to agree, but something defensive behind his eyes held him back.

"I'm not suggesting that benzene is unnatural – it's been used as an industrials solvent for decades – but what if, because of its symmetrical nature, this is one aspect of our chemical environment that… they… have embraced?"

Mulder shook his head, standing up straight to pace in a small circle. "So you're saying that aliens have seen fit to harness one of Earth's chemical compounds for their own use… for what?"

Scully could only sigh. "I don't know, Mulder."

"And Robert Hale came in close contact with it, it somehow absorbed into his bloodstream on a permanent basis without apparently causing any damage, and how he's passed it on to two of his kids, who are also immune to its effects."

Neither spoke for a moment, with Scully suddenly self-conscious under her partner's foreboding gaze.

Mulder shook his head again, more violently this time. "There is no documentation for that." His tone was half incredulous and half derisive. "You can't possibly record that."

"I told you, Mulder, that was just speculation –"

"That's pretty far-fetched, even for speculation, especially for you."

Scully scoffed, voice raising before she had a chance to tell herself not to be offended. "Mulder, I am trying to understand your side," she stepped forward, pointing with one hand and glaring dangerously at his hard green eyes. "You're the one who always makes the connections. I'm a long way from debunking your work, Mulder. I could have if I wanted to, but I didn't." She paused for a mere second to draw back, though her icy tone did not waver. "And you can't possibly blame me for that."

She ignored his penetrating eyes on her as she left him standing there empty-handed.

* * *

"After finding large amounts of benzene in the bloodstreams of both Alice and Lucas Hale, the children were immediately put on specialized treatment to filter the compound from their systems. How they remain unaffected by its presence, and why Angela's tests showed no traces, has yet to be discovered.

"For the time being, Alice's alleged visions of extraterrestrials are being credited to instability due to the blood contaminant. Agent Mulder agree with this assumption. This, however, has not yet been properly documented. That is, if Alice was seeing anything at all – skepticism is understandable, as she is only ten years of age.

"Lucas' depictions of Alice's aliens are thought to be the result of the relation of Alice's visions by Alice herself, though she claims never to have revealed any exact details.

"Whether Alice or Lucas Hale possesses any true connection to extraterrestrial life is currently unclear.

"End of field journal."

* * *

Scully exhaled deeply, powering off her computer and resting her head in her hands.

After a few minutes, she stood up. Looking in the mirror, she was mildly surprised. Her eyes were tired from the late hour and her frustration at the unresolved case, but they were no longer glassy and blank as they had once been. Her creamy complexion held its color. Even her hair seemed to shine a bit more than it had weeks before. She gave herself a tight smile and quietly headed to bed.

That night, she heard the voice of a young girl who had been abducted by aliens. She mentioned a brother named Fox.


	8. Chapter 8

The hot steam warmed her. As the water cascaded down her achy body, Scully exhaled heavily. It had been a few days since the official end of the Hale case, and nearly a week since she had heard from Boggs. She still heard the voices, of course, but since she concluded that the man's voice she had heard was Robert Hale, Boggs had not directly addressed her as he once did.

The thought was perplexing to say the least.

The shower was one of the few places she allowed herself to think. The silence of the nighttime, the solitude, and the lack of other more pressing matters competing for her attention all combined to give rare, much-needed time to herself.

That night, her thoughts wandered, never staying one particular path. Rather than being bombarded with questions and engaged in the search for their answers, she was blank.

She frowned to herself at a sudden noise. Hearing nothing else, she returned to her previous contemplation, absentmindedly rinsing the shampoo from her water-darkened hair.

An ear-splitting pounding at the door jolted her to attention. "Scully!" shouted a muffled voice she instantly recognized. "Scully, open the damn door!"

The door swung open wildly before she could react.

"Mulder!" she cried, immediately registering his panic-stricken face through the clear stripe in her frosted shower curtain.

"I need to talk to you," he said breathlessly, fists clenched and nearly trembling. "Now."

* * *

She emerged from the bathroom seconds later, whatever pajamas she found hastily flung on. Mulder was standing facing away from her, hands wringing as he edgily shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He seemed so engrossed that he didn't even hear her open the door. "Mulder, what is it?"

"What is it?" he demanded, whipping around with such speed it ruffled a loose sheet of paper on her desk. His tone was intense enough to stop her in her tracks, yet forcedly controlled. He pulled a black floppy disk from his pocket, jammed it in her computer, and pointed at a line in the document list titled _Samantha. _"I'm guessing you forgot to delete this one when you made the copy of all your reports to put on file," he spat. Turning to the monitor, he opened the document and read aloud, "I have always thought keeping a diary for personal use to be foolish, but I feel I must record this for fear of losing control of my own thoughts. Last night, though Luther Lee Boggs, I heard the voice of Samantha Mulder." He stopped there, almost unable to continue.

Scully's eyes closed instinctively as she took a shaky breath. "How much did you read?"

"Enough," he snapped, voice clipped. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since the execution," she breathed, eyes trained on anything but him. "Since he asked me to come… and I never showed up."

His accusing voice did not lower or soften at her admission – if anything, it seemed to intensify. "Damn it, Dana, I'm sick of you hiding things from me. Tell me what happened to her!"

"Not until you tell me what happened to you," she snapped, suddenly finding her voice. "First you act like there's nothing to be done on a case you would normally jump at the chance to investigate. Then I try to make a suggestion and you shoot it down without even listening to my explanation! What happened, Mulder? Why don't you believe anymore?"

"I am tired, Scully," he shouted. "I'm so tired!" He paused, eyes roaming wildly around the room before returning to hers. "Somebody has to argue the other side. If it's not going to be you any more, then I guess it has to be me."

She flinched. She hadn't expected such an outburst – it never occurred to her that he simply could not handle her believing.

"What did they do to her?" he asked slowly, voice softer now, broken.

Her eyes slipped closed again. "Mulder," she whispered, "I… I can't –"

"What the hell happened to my sister!" he shouted, suddenly in front of her, shaking her by the shoulders.

When she opened her eyes, he could just make out a line of unshed tears. "She's dead," Scully croaked. "They… took her… there were complications with the tests." She paused to suck in a deep breath. "They couldn't save her, even if they bothered to try."

His eyes fell from hers, breath coming unevenly as the hands still clamped on her shoulders loosened involuntarily.

"Mulder, I'm sorry," she whispered.

He just stood there, shaking, barely able to even control himself. Both were afraid to move. "Sorry to bother you," Mulder mumbled, eyes not quite meeting hers. He backed away slowly, gasping for breath. He fumbled for the door, still facing her, and breathed, "Sorry" before he fled. The door hung open behind him.

Scully stood rooted to the carpet, finally letting one tear spill over.


	9. Chapter 9

_Here's the last chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!_

It was Saturday. She didn't care. That morning she reported to the dingy basement office she had come to call her own as if it was a normal workday. She sat down in Mulder's squeaky chair and brought up a new document, emotionless face glowing in the light of the computer monitor.

She didn't know when it would ever be needed, so she began simply. By that night, she had typed nearly ten pages outlining the entire experience.

"…Prior to Luther Lee Boggs' execution, he requested that I be present for his final moments, to receive his 'message' from my father. While the reasons for the mysterious connections are speculation at best, it is my opinion that Boggs was searching for some sort of redemption. Perhaps, since I attempted to spare his life and was one of the only ones to stand by his side in many a year, whatever my intentions, he felt some sort of obligation to deliver my 'message,' regardless. Perhaps he yearned for contact with another human being on an emotional level, something he had been denied since childhood due to his severe psychological anomaly. I had presented an opportunity, baring myself completely to his psychic abilities through my weakness.

"The nature of the connection is cryptic. No visual images ever accompanied the sounds of the voices. Boggs was only able to connect me while I was asleep, and therefore not otherwise occupied, or he may have chosen to only approach me during sleep to simplify my acceptance. I cannot draw conclusive results from this issue.

"It was only after the stories of both Robert Hale, a crucial figure in the case and Samantha Mulder, the sister of my partner and most trusted friend, that I realized that some of Boggs' transmissions must have been intentional. I remain firm in my belief that Boggs was intending to help, not to harm, as others might deduce from his lengthy criminal record. He saved my life at the Blue Devil Brewery. Though I was unable to report my findings on the Hale case due to weak evidence, the information he presented provides a feasible solution, despite its paranormal nature and unbelievability. He has shown me the fate of someone who has been searched for in vain for nearly two decades. Was it guilt that drove him? There is no way to know.

"When Agent Mulder discovered that I knew of Samantha's fate, Boggs seemed to realize how much his presence was interfering, for better or worse. He claimed to have realized the weight of his actions and offered to allow me to speak with my father, his original purpose, before he terminated all contact. I declined, in trade for allowing Agent Mulder to speak with his sister. He agreed. I will not tell Agent Mulder of the trade.

"After tonight, the only proof of these occurrences will be Mulder's testimony and my own."

Scully fastened the printout with a paperclip and placed it in a new folder marker "Auditory Experiences with the Dead." Movements mechanical and stiff, she moved to the row of file cabinets, opened the top drawer, and filed it away.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she rested her forehead on the edge of the cabinet, pushing the drawer closed.

* * *

Her footsteps sounded hollow and artificial in the peaceful stillness of the church. Scully could just see a figure slumped down in a pew near the back. She'd had a feeling he might be there.

She knelt down to pick up a crumpled photograph lying abandoned on the floor. Smoothing it out, she smiled. Two brown-haired children who looked almost exactly alike but for their age smiled gleefully at the camera. The boy's arms were draped around the younger girl's waist. Scully gently pressed it into her jacket pocket. He would want it later.

She wordlessly sat down in the space next to Mulder.

"Why, Dana?" he finally spoke minutes later. "Why?"

Scully could only give him a sad smile. "I don't know." She gently placed her hand on his. "Do you want to talk to her?"

His gaze snapped up to hers. Neither moved, but his eyes gave away his answer.

She nodded, then turned her face away. She didn't want to listen.

* * *

Scully shuddered when Mulder's tense grip on her hand finally relaxed and she heard the haunting voice in her head for the last time. "Goodbye, Agent Scully. See you when I see you."

With that, it was silent again.

Mulder's shoulders heaved. Without a word, Scully let his head rest on her shoulder.

Darkness fell.


End file.
